“Really great. I’m thinking of getting a summer place there.”
“You know what I wonder, Levi? Why are some people always such hemorrhoids? You ever wonder that?”
“I do. Are you aware that antagonizing an officer of the law is a felony?”
“Really. How fascinating. Can you get it in gear, please? I want to see my family.”
He signed the paper and handed it to her. She wadded it up and tossed it in the car. “Am I free to go, Officer?”
“It’s Chief now,” he said.
“See someone about that branch.” She got into the car and drove off. Not too fast, though not slowly, either.
Levi watched her go, releasing a breath. Up to Blue Heron Vineyard, the place her family had owned since America was a baby, to the big white house on the Hill, as her neighborhood was called.
He’d always known Faith Holland, the kind of girl who hugged her girlfriends six times a day in school, as if it’d been weeks since they’d seen each other, not two periods. She reminded him of a puppy trying to woo prospective owners at the pound... Like me! Like me! I’m really nice! Jessica, Levi’s old neighbor from the trailer park and on-and-off high school girlfriend, had dubbed her Princess Super-Cute, always bouncing around in frilly outfits and pastel colors. Once Faith had started dating Jeremy...it was like eating a bowl of Lucky Charms topped with syrup, so sweet it made your teeth ache. He was surprised bluebirds hadn’t fluttered around her head.
Funny, how she’d never noticed her boyfriend was gay.
Levi knew she’d been back over the years—Christmas and Thanksgiving, a weekend here and there, but her visits were short and sweet. She sure never stopped by the police station, though he was friendly with her family; sometimes her grandparents would ask him to stay for dinner after they’d summoned him to the house, and once in a while, he’d have a beer with her father or brother at O’Rourke’s. But Faith would never think to drop by and say hello.
Yet once upon a time, when she’d cried herself dehydrated, she’d fallen asleep with her head in his lap.
Levi got back into his cruiser. Plenty of work to do. No point in dwelling on the past.
* * *
FAITH KNOCKED ON THE BACK door of her father’s house and happily braced for impact. “I’m home!” she called.
“Faith! Oh, honey, finally!” cried Goggy, leading the stampede. “You’re late! Didn’t I tell you dinner was at noon?”
“Just got hung up a little,” Faith said, not wanting to mention Levi Cooper, Ass Pain.
Abby, now sixteen and so pretty, wrapped herself around Faith, burbling out compliments: “I love your earrings, you smell so good, can I come live with you?” Pops kissed both her cheeks and told her she was his prettiest girl, and Faith breathed in the comforting scent of grapes and Bengay. Ned hugged her amiably, despite being twenty-one, and tolerated a hair muss, and Pru gave her a hard hug, as well.
Her mother’s absence was still the most powerful thing in the room.
And finally there was Dad, who waited his turn for a solo hug. His eyes were wet when he pulled back. “Hi, sweetpea,” he said, and Faith’s heart gave a tug.
“Missed you, Daddy.”
“You look beautiful, sweetheart.” He ran a purple-stained hand over her hair and smiled.
“Mrs. Johnson’s not here?” Faith asked.
“It’s her day off,” Dad said.
“Oh, I know. I just haven’t seen her since June.”
“She doesn’t approve of Grandpa’s girlfriend,” Abby whispered as she petted Blue.
“Hi, sis,” Jack said, handing her a glass of wine.
“Hello, favorite sibling,” she answered, taking a hearty slug.
“Don’t drink it like it’s Gatorade, sweetpea,” her father chided. “We’re winemakers, remember?”
“Sorry, Dad,” Faith said. “Nice aroma of freshly cut grass, a rich, buttery texture, and I’m getting overtones of apricot with a hint of lemon. I love it.”
“Good girl,” he said. “Did you get any vanilla? Honor said vanilla.”
“Definitely.” Far be it for Faith to contradict Honor, who ran everything under the moon at Blue Heron Vineyards. “Where is Honor, by the way?”
“On that phone of hers,” Goggy said darkly. She tended not to trust anything invented after 1957. “Get in the dining room before the food gets cold.”
“I was serious when I asked to come live with you,” Abby said. Prudence sighed and took a slug of her own wine. “Plus,” Abby went on, “then I can establish residency in California and go to some awesome school out there at half price. See, Mom? Just saving you and Dad some money.”
“And where’s Carl, speaking of my favorite brother-in-law?” Faith asked.
“Hiding,” Pru answered.
“Well, well, well! You must be Faith!” A woman’s voice boomed as the downstairs bathroom door opened, the sound of a flushing toilet in the background.
Faith opened her mouth, then closed it. “Oh. I—I am. Lorena, I’m guessing?”
The woman Honor had warned about was a sight to behold indeed. Dull black hair, obviously dyed, makeup so thick you could carve in it and a squat body shown in horrifying detail through a clinging, leopard-print shirt.
The woman shoved a Sharpie pen in her cleavage where it stayed, quivering, like a syringe. “Just touching up my roots!” she announced. “Wanted to make a nice impression on the little princess! Hello there! Give us a hug!”
Faith’s breath left her in a whoosh as Lorena wrapped her in a python grip. “Nice to meet you,” she wheezed as Pru gave her a significant look.
“Can we please eat before my death?” Pops asked. “The old woman here wouldn’t let me have my cheese. I’m starving.”
“So, die already,” Goggy answered. “No one’s stopping you. I’ll barely notice.”
“Well, Phyllis Nebbins would notice. She got a new hip two months ago, Faithie. Looks like she’s seventy-five again, out there with her grandson, always with a smile. Nice to see a happy woman.”
Goggy slammed down a massive bowl of salt potatoes. “I’ll be happy once you’re dead.”
“That’s beautiful, Goggy,” Ned said.
“You two are such hoots!” Lorena practically yelled. “I love it!”
Faith sat down, inhaling the scent of Goggy’s ham, salt potatoes and home.
There were two houses on Blue Heron Vineyard: the Old House, where Goggy and Pops lived, a Colonial that had been updated twice since being built in 1781—once to install indoor plumbing, then again in 1932. Faith and her siblings grew up here, in the New House, a graceful if creaky old Federal built in 1873, where Dad lived with Honor and Mrs. Johnson, the housekeeper who’d been with them since Mom died.
And speaking of Honor... “Sorry, everyone,” she said. She paused, gave Faith a brief kiss on the cheek. “You finally got here.”
“Hi, Honor.” She ignored the slight reprimand.
Pru and Jack were sixteen and eight years older than Faith respectively, and generally viewed their baby sister as adorable, if slightly incompetent (which Faith had never minded, as it got her out of a lot of chores back in the day). Honor, though... She was four years older;